Fanfiction
by Merccy
Summary: A challenge fic - The Las Vegas Crime Lab discovers something unusual on the Internet - what exactly is this ‘fanfiction’? Chapter 6 up!
1. Mary Sue

**Title: **Fanfiction

**Author: **Mercury

**Summary: **The Las Vegas Crime Lab discovers something unusual on the Internet - what exactly is this 'fanfiction'?

**Rating: **As of now, PG, but with later chapters it will probably progress to a PG-13.

**Author's Notes: **A challenge given by **keskin_snape** from Under the Bridge. This is just silly, harmless fun, so have fun. It will be continued with a different kind of fic each chapter. Enjoy!

"Given up on your bugs, have you?"

Grissom looked up from the computer in the breakroom where he had been sitting for the last thirty minutes, searching through what seemed like endless amounts of information. He had been trying to find more on a new kind of crossbreed, something a scientist had recently attempted. Normally he ignored the people that tried to screw with evolution, but the prospect of a grasshopper/fruit fly hybrid was . . . well, intriguing.

"What do you mean?" He asked innocently.

"Well," Sara said, pulling up a chair beside him, "You were working on that theory of bugs leaving their larvae in the vic's food as cause of death. But that theory never checked out, did it? "

Grissom sighed. "Miss Sidle, I was the incorrect one. Blame me. But never the bugs."

"Fine. But I think your obsession with bugs is bordering on fetish." She replied, stealing a glance at the screen. "What's that?"

"What's what?"

"_That_." Pointing to the screen, she moved the mouse to highlight the summary given to it by the search engine. "Grissom, why are our names there?"

Gil gazed at the summary before reading it out loud. "My latest piece of fanfiction! Grissom finds love in someone other than Sara Sidle. Slash."

"Hey guys." Greg said as he entered the breakroom. "Whatcha doing?"

Sara turned to face Sanders inquisitively. "Greg, what's fanfiction?"

Greg stopped his coffee cup just before it touched his lips, bringing it down and placing it on a nearby table instead. "Fanfiction?" He asked. "Why do you guys want to know what fanfiction is?"

"Well," Grissom began, "I was doing this search and I got this result." He read Greg the summary and looked to him for an answer. "Any idea?"

"Did you say 'slash'?" Upon receiving a nod from his supervisor, Greg broke into maniacal throes of laughter, slapping his thighs and quickly putting his coffee cup down again to avoid spilling it.

"Is there something funny, Greg?" Sara asked, irritated.

He managed to eek out a "Grissom . . . reading slash . . . " amidst his giggles before he left the room, still laughing hysterically."

"Well, that was helpful." Grissom said, clicking on another link. Somehow the word 'slash' itself wasn't terribly exciting, but he vowed to revisit it once he had a better understanding of what fanfiction itself was. This summary described the fanfiction as "nicky finds tru love at the lab w/ a new grl!1 plz r&r!!!"

Apparently the page was part of a site called "fanfiction.net" (whatever that was) and it was taking ages to load.

Catherine entered a moment later, her countenance mirroring confusion. "I just ran into Sanders," she said, pointing towards the direction she had come from. "Any idea why he's cackling like a banshee?"

"We asked him what fanfiction was and he just started laughing." Sara replied.

Catherine's reply was cut short by Grissom's sharp cry of "A-ha!" The page had loaded and he was beginning to scroll down towards the Author's Notes at the beginning. The blonde CSI pulled up a chair of her own and poked her head in between Sara and Grissom. They all began to read.

**umm no title for now!**

** by ~*~*~*~*~*georgesgrrl4eva~*~*~*~*~**

"Who's 'George'?" Nick asked, appearing out of nowhere to pull a chair up next to Grissom and read.

"Beats me." Replied Sara. "The one thing we're wondering the most, though, is this: what the hell is fanfiction?"

"Ssh!" Said Catherine. "I'm trying to read."

**pleeeeeez r7r its my first fic!! and b kind or elz! I like looooooove george eads and wanted him 2 have a prrfect match so here gos!!!!!11!!!111oneoneone**

"This looks promising." Warrick said, catching sight of the rest of his team clustered around the computer and joining them. "How do people actually read this stuff? You'd need a translator."

**chapter 1- density **

Catherine tried to stifle her giggle unsuccessfully. Grissom smiled and said, "I guess we can assume her IQ is equal to the number of asterisks in her username."

"That would be nine." Sara informed him. "Could we continue, please?"

**nick was in the lab. he was sad cuz he had no 1 2 b w/. sara and grissom were in love. warrick had his g/f angie. and catherine didnt have any 1 b/c she was 2 mean (I hate hur!!1)**

"Well, she's certainly got your personality down, Cath." Teased Sara, whose cheeks were still red after reading the line about her and Grissom. How did some spellcheck-ignorant bimbo find out about her relationship with Gil?  
"Aww, poor Nicky." Warrick added, punching Nick softly on the arm."

"Cut it out, man." Nick replied. "I still want to know who this 'Angie' babe is."

**then he saw the new girl come in. her hair was shinging like a princess's or britney spears, and it was red like he had never seen be4 except in carrots and handbags (like my new prada bag which I love just like nicky!!!!11!!). her eyes was deep and green and blue and beautiful. he went weak at the nees when he saw her mouth, which was read like her hair (exsept her hair was more orange bcuz if it was 2 red that would look wierd! lololol) which was**

"How much longer do the descriptions go on, Gil?" Asked Sara, checking her watch.

"A couple of paragraphs, I think." He answered, scrolling down past the endless streams of horrible spelling and grammar.

**'work!' catherine yelled at the new grl. nick went up to cath. 'WHATS UP WITH YOU?!?!?' he yelled at her. 'that new girl has to get to work or we wont get this killer!' catherine yelled back at nick. 'ur 2 mean 2 her!' nick said back. 'r u ok?' he asked the girl who was doing stuff with fingerprints.**

Sara looked over at Catherine and grinned.

"Catherine Willows," announced Warrick in a mocking tone, "CSI 3 and the lab's official Nazi."

Catherine stared at the screen. "Who am I, an evil stepsister?"

"Well, you and Nick certainly do a lot of screaming in this story." Grissom added to the conversation. "Although I do admire the author for constructing such a complex case for us. We're looking for the 'killer'. She was doing 'stuff with fingerprints'."

**the girl looked @ nick. 'hi' she said shily. 'hi' he said back. 'the boss is kinda mean.' she said. 'yeah' said nick.**

"I thought _I _was the 'boss' around here." Grissom interrupted angrily.

"I probably killed you for the position." Replied Catherine. "In this story, I mean." She added, noticing the wary look she received from Gil.

**'i think ur pretty' he said. 'me too'. she said.**

Warrick shook his head in confusion. "Does she mean she thinks she's pretty, too? Or does she mean she thinks _he's_ pretty . . . ?"

Nick patted his friend's arm in consolation. "Warrick, I don't think we're that focused on logic right now. In fact," he gulped, "we're just worried about making it through the rest of this as quickly and painlessly as possible, with as little emotional scarring as we can manage."

**'so' he whispered. 'guess you should be doing prints'. 'no' she said 'i want 2 talk 2 u'. 'y?' he asked. 'bcuz i luv u' she said. 'me 2' he said. 'prepare thyself, nick' she said and then kissed him. There kiss was beautiful (and omg i wish i waz kissing nick!11) and went on before nick and her were on top of the table kissing and gettin it on (lol if u no wat i mean).**

Horrified, Nick gaped at the screen in front of him. "Making out - in the lab? On the layout table?" His voice reached an almost comedically high pitch as he squeaked out, "on top of the evidence?"

"Nick!" Sara exclaimed, bemused. "I thought you would at least have learned her name before you took her to your favorite hot spot."

"Oh, man." Warrick groaned. "Thanks, Sara. I don't know if I'll be able to look at that table again, let alone touch it."

"Ooh." Grissom said. "It appears everyone's favorite Crime Lab Nazi has returned!"

Catherine glared at him.

**'WUT R U DOING?!??!?!' catherine yelled when she walked in and saw nick and her. 'UR FIRED BOTH OF U!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!21111111!!!!' 'I QUIT!!!!!!!!!' yelled nick and he grabbed the girl (whose name was jenna mackenzie sam madeliene summer katie adriana jones) and left. and they lived happily ever after and catherine was kicked out and nick and his wife came back to rule the lab.**

"Our lab is _not_ a medieval kingdom." Grissom muttered through clenched teeth. "You cannot 'rule' a lab."

"Chill." Catherine said, patting his arm comfortingly. "You may be nonexistent, but at least you're not Superbitch."

Nick shook his head in disgust. "I don't like this fanfiction thing."

Sara took the mouse from Grissom's hand and clicked on the 'back' button.

"There are more of them?" Warrick asked incredulously. "I don't believe these people. Don't they have better things to do?"

"I guess not." Grissom replied, having calmed down about the 'ruling of the lab' incident. "So I'm guessing fanfiction is basically . . . writing stories using people you've heard of before?"

Catherine nodded slowly. "They did do an article on us in _Time_ a few years back."

"It seems popular, though." Grissom scrolled through his search results. A number of them were part of the site fanfiction.net. He clicked on one of the links and then on the 'category' button labeled 'CSI'. He was taken to a page filled with stories - all with summaries containing their names.

"Hey," Warrick said. "We still don't know what 'slash' is." He pointed to the link leading to the slash fic Grissom had originally stumbled upon.

"All right." Catherine said. "Let's find out."

_How will the lab react to their first slash fic? To be continued . . ._


	2. Slash

**Disclaimer: **I do not own CSI or am in any way affiliated with it. I'm just a fan. (This disclaimer goes for all the rest of the chapters, too.)

**Author's Notes: **If you don't like slash, you may not want to read this (or at least skip over the **bolded** parts). It's not pretty, I'll tell you that.

Don't get used to the quick updates - while I'd love to update once every few days, it's not going to be possible. It was only possible this time because I had a three-day weekend with nothing planned.

And, lastly, I would like to thank everyone for the many lovely reviews. Wow! I wasn't expecting three reviews, let alone fifty. Thanks a ton for your encouragement! If anyone has any ideas for parody-able fics they'd like to see done, put it in a review. I have six or seven ideas lined up, but that's it.

On with the fic! Enjoy.

"Well, that was . . . " Warrick trailed off, at a loss for an adjective to describe their experience with the piece of fanfiction they had just finished reading.

"Weird?" Offered Grissom.

"Offensive?" Catherine said angrily.

"Emotionally scarring?" Added Sara, who was still trying to rid herself of the images of Nick making out on the layout table. It was just _wrong_.

The page was still loading when Brass poked his head in the door. "What's going on in here?" He asked, joining the small crowd at the computer.

"Fanfiction." Chorused Nick and Catherine in unison. Noticing the puzzled look on the cop's face, Catherine added, "Don't ask."

Grissom shushed his coworkers quickly. "Hopefully this 'slash' will be better than whatever we just read." He said, scrolling down to the beginning to the Author's Notes.

"**No Boundaries"**

** By Jane**

Sara nodded in approval. "Well, she has a normal name and a fairly decent grasp of the English language. Sounds promising."

Nick nodded, praying silently someone else would be the subject of this story.

**A/N: This is a slash fic. If you don't like slash, get out of here now. I don't want any of you stupid freaks complaining that this is disgusting. My fanfiction is art.**

Grissom raised an eyebrow. "Someone has an ego."

**Flames will be used to torture you as you rot in hell.**

"And they don't like negative feedback." Said Brass, continuing Grissom's earlier statement.

**The lab was dark and quiet. The members of the Las Vegas Crime Lab were slowly packing up and exiting one by one, poking fun at each other harmlessly in the locker room.**

** Grissom was distracted, though. He had had his eye on someone in the lab all week now, and he was beginning to . . . well, fall for them. Their sense of determination. Their hidden vulnerability.**

"Aww, how sweet of you, Griss." Nick teased. "So which lady is the apple of your eye? Cath or Sara?" Both women's cheeks promptly turned a deep crimson upon hearing Nick's question, to which Grissom replied by shooting him a glare that would freeze Lake Mead in an instant. Sara again wondered how so many people knew about them - there was nothing about their relationship mentioned in that _Time_ article!

"At least he knows how to show his ladies a good time, unlike Mr. Layout Room here." Warrick said, grinning.

**So he was pleasantly surprised when they lingered by the door and turned back to face Grissom. They were alone now, and Gil was feeling bold.**

** "What're you up to tonight?" Grissom asked, his muscular hands resting on his hips, his chest visible through his thin shirt.**

Catherine giggled. "Muscular hands, Gil?"

"Hey, I wouldn't be making fun, Catherine." Brass warned. "They could be all over you in a minute."

An awkward silence filled the room as everyone shifted their gaze to Jim.

"In the story!" He blurted out, flustered. "If you're the one in the locker room - if - forget it."

**"Nothing much." They replied in a sultry tone. "How about you?"**

** Grissom edged slightly closer, as did the room's other occupant. "Nothing much. I've got a woman I might call."**

** They were standing inches apart now. "You don't need a woman,"**

"I don't like the direction this is headed in." Grissom said cautiously.

Nick snorted. "After that last story, how bad could it b - " He broke off when he read the rest of that sentence.

**Brass said. "You have me."**

Jim dropped the coffee cup he had been holding, sending shards of ceramic flying all over the floor of the breakroom, swimming in the small puddle of coffee by his feet.

"Bad, Nick." Catherine said, her jaw hanging open.

"_Very_ bad." Added Sara, staring first at Grissom, then at Brass, before shuddering. The lab's supervisor looked like someone had just squashed and burned his collection of bugs before replacing him with Eckley and being reassigned to janitorial.

**Their lips - both a rosy pink - met and locked together in a fiery, passionate kiss. Brass pushed Grissom up against the lockers and began to unbutton his shirt.**

** "You know," Gil managed to get out in between kisses, "They say ninety percent of working relationships never work out."**

** "Those are lies, damned lies and statistics." Jim said, cutting off the rest of his words with a mindnumbingly powerful kiss.**

"Is 'mindnumbingly' even a _word_?" Warrick asked incredulously.

Catherine glanced at Brass, whose eyes were as large and round as dinner plates. "Brass, do you want some water or something?"

"It's like some horrible nightmare." He responded. "I just can't tear my eyes from the screen . . . "

Greg practically danced into the lab, unusually cheery. "How'd you like the slash fic?" He asked tauntingly.

"We're reading it now." Sara answered. "Is 'slash' . . . uh . . . homosexual relationships, Greg?"

The lab rat nodded, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "Yup!" He said nonchalantly, almost perkily, moving over to the team around the computer. "So, uh, what's the pairing?" Noticing the broken mug on the floor and its mess, he added to Brass, "You might want to get that cleaned up," totally oblivious to the pained expression on the cop's face.

"Grissom and Brass." Nick replied, patting Grissom's shoulder reassuringly. "It's OK, man. We'll make it through this together."

Greg grinned. "You know, I once read one where Griss and Warrick and Nick were having a threesome on the roof - "

"Get out!" Shouted the three men in unison. "We've had enough emotional scarring for one day, Sanders!" Added Sara, her fingers firmly planted in her ears.

Chuckling to himself, Greg skipped out of the breakroom.

"Can we scroll past some of this?" Brass asked, having regained some of his composure but still attempting to regain his dignity.

As they skimmed across multiple paragraphs of sickening detail, Nick commented lightheartedly, "Well, they certainly do know their male anatomy." The rest of the group groaned, closing their eyes to shut out any mental images conjured by the remark.

**Their fingers were intertwined as they lay on the bench in the back of the locker room, staring at the ceiling. "You're good." Brass said boldly.**

** "Pride of the south for over a hundred years." Grissom responded proudly.**

** "So . . . our little secret?" The man's voice was soft and sexy, prompting Warrick to plant another long, hot kiss on his lips.**

** He smiled sultrily. "There's no use denying it."**

** "Denial is for those who can't handle the truth . . . why are you staring at me?" Their eyes met and soon Brass was on top of him again.**

"Scroll!" Shouted Catherine, her eyes squeezed shut for fear of catching a glimpse of a particularly disturbing segment.

Nick absentmindedly grabbed a can of the microwaveable soup Catherine always kept in the fridge for last minute snacks and placed it in the microwave, setting the timer before quickly returning to his spot by the computer.

**They were still sleeping there in the morning, when the first rays of golden sunshine were beginning to creep through the windows behind them.**

"Is this still in the locker room?" Asked Sara, puzzled. "I didn't think we had windows in there."

"We don't." Grissom responded crossly.

**"I love you." Said Grissom as he rolled over to face Brass.**

** "Me too." The older man replied with a small kiss on the cheek. Grissom noted just how cute Brass looked in this light.**

"I can't handle this. I can't take it anymore!" Jim exclaimed furiously, racing out of the breakroom, muttering something under his breath about "fanfiction" and "a machete". 

"Ugh." Said Warrick. "I don't ever want to hear the words 'cute' and 'Brass' in the same sentence again."

Catherine shrugged, turning back to face the screen.

**Later that morning, Catherine and Sara entered the locker room. Brass and Grissom were still in the back, covered only by a blanket,**

"Ewww." Chorused Sara and Catherine, grimacing.

**hoping the two women wouldn't go in the back and find them.**

** "Hey, guys." Warrick said as he entered the room. "What's up?"**

** "Nothing much." Catherine replied, pulling her hair into a ponytail. "How about you?"**

** Warrick shook his head. "So did either of you guys see my wallet? I think I left it here last night."**

** "It might be in the back." Sara said, heading towards the back of the locker, followed by Warrick and Catherine.**

** Grissom could hear their footsteps come closer and he snuggled further under the blanket with Brass. And then he heard the footsteps stop just before Sara said**

_BOOM!_

The sudden boom caused the group around the computer to attempt to crawl as far under their chairs as they could, as employees in the hall and various parts of the building did the same. Nick managed to lift his head high enough to take a look around the room. Nothing was damaged, except - 

Except the microwave, a flame engulfing the formerly black kitchen appliance, foam dripping down its sides. _Shit!_ He thought. The other occupants of the room were cautiously standing now, staring at the microwave.

"Nick," Said Grissom slowly, "What exactly did you put in the microwave?"

"Just some soup." He said, before adding in a small child's whine: "I didn't do it!"

Catherine was already at the microwave, helping Sara tackle the microwave with a fire extinguisher. Once the flames were gone, she reached her arm in to pull out a mangled can of beer, once a metal cylinder, now a mess of melted aluminum. "The evidence doesn't lie." She said.

Grissom gave Nick a glance that many referred to as the "Suspect-Intimidation Glare" before the CSI broke. "OK!" He yelled, while Warrick laughed behind him. "It was an accident, but it's a microwave. Not a murder."

Grinning, Sara said, "Well, Nick, we could dust for prints on what's left of the can and place you at the crime scene."

"Don't you guys ever stop working?" He asked incredulously.

"Lighten up, Nicky!" Catherine said, walking back to her chair and patting Nick on the back on the way, smiling.

Gil stopped his glaring and smiled. "Come on, Nick." He said, before adding with complete seriousness, "You do owe us a new microwave, though."

Nick gave an exasperated sigh. "What?" Frantically looking around, he gestured wildly with his arms. "I can't afford that! Not unless you let my paycheck cover it!"

Warrick clapped an arm around his friend's shoulder. "Bus-ted." He sang, sitting back down and preparing himself for more of the story. "Should we keep reading?"

"Do we want to?" Catherine asked, trying to erase from her memory what she had already read. "If it's as painful as the first part of it, I'm out of here."

Seeing the scroll well past the halfway mark on the page, Grissom said, "I think it's ending soon." He pointed. "We shouldn't have much more to read. And anyway, if it _is_ ending soon, there's not enough space for more truly horrible things to happen."

"Well, provided we don't have any more distractions for the time being" - Sara paused to look meaningfully at Nick, whose face immediately gave off a _what'd-_I_-do?_ look - "I think we can start again."

**"Griss?"**

** "Uh . . . hey, Sara." Said Grissom, popping his head up from under the covers. "And Warrick. And Catherine. And Nick." He added, noticing Nick join them.**

** Warrick frowned. "What's going on?"**

** Before he could respond, Catherine whipped back the rest of the blanket to reveal Brass. Strangely enough, no one seemed the least bit fazed.**

** "Aren't you -?"**

** "Not really." Sara shrugged. "After all, Catherine and I have been sleeping together for the last year or so."**

The three men gathered around the computer turned in unison to stare at Catherine and Sara, who in turn sputtered in indignation their horror.

**"Yeah," Warrick added, "And Nick and I have been a couple for . . . how long?"**

** "Three years, honeybunch." Answered Nick, resting his head on Warrick's shoulder.**

It was everyone else's turn to stare at Warrick and Nick, who slid over a couple of extra inches to increase the distance between them.

**Grissom smiled and hugged Brass. It was good to know everyone was in love and happy and accepting. Yay. (A/N: I hate writing endings, I just like the SMUT!)**

Upon reaching the 'Fin' at the end, several loud sighs of relief could be heard.

"Thank God _that's_ over." Nick said, still keeping his distance from Warrick.

"Yeah." Agreed Catherine. "From now on, no more 'slash' fics, alright?"

Grissom furrowed his brow. "Its interesting, human behavior. The ability to have heard of two people and pair them together for no reason at all other than the fact that it might get them feedback."

"Feedback?" Inquired Sara. "What do you mean?"

Gil pointed to the 'Submit Review' button and clicked on it, filling out the name section as well as the review section in a matter of seconds. When he finished typing he leaned back in his chair, satisfied, and let the other read it.

Name: The Las Vegas Crime Lab

Email: n/a

Review: Dear Jane:

We at the Las Vegas Crime Lab did not at all enjoy your 'fic'. Not only was it morally degrading, but embarrassing for myself (Gil Grissom) and for my colleagues as well. If you wish to improve your writing skills, I suggest a visit to a writing workshop. Or a therapist.

Sincerely,

The Las Vegas Crime Lab

PS your story sucks!!

"Who typed the PS?" Catherine asked when she had finished reading it.

"I did." Said Nick proudly.

Grissom clicked on the button and watched a message appear on the screen. But just after he clicked the 'close window' button, the screen went dark.

Sara hit the side of the computer with her palm. "This thing never works." She said angrily, massaging her hand where it had struck the hard plastic of the machine. That had _hurt_.

Then, suddenly, the power went out. Then back on. It continued to flicker for a moment before coming back on for good, the computer lighting up again.

"Well," observed Warrick, "The power's on, but the lightbulb itself is on the fritz."

Indeed the lightbulb above their heads was flickering, capable of causing epileptic fits if stared at for more than a minute. "No shit, Sherlock." Nick said jokingly, having gotten over the idea of him in a romantic relationship with Warrick.

"Hey, I didn't blow up the microwave and _cause_ this whole thing." Retorted Warrick, grinning widely.

"It wasn't my fault!" Nick protested stubbornly.

Greg entered just then, steam practically pouring out of his ears. "Bollocks, Nick." He cried, thrusting a large black contraption at him. "If you did this, you're going to pay."

"What'd he do?" Sara asked, amused.

Greg carefully grabbed back the box from Nick, clutching it to his chest. "The power went out. I was making coffee, playing a CD, and playing - " He paused for dramatic effect - "last but not least, the PS2 _Ultimate Game Package_." The lab rat emphasized the last three words as if they were of great importance.

"And . . . ?" Grissom asked, spreading his hands out, waiting for the meaning of his anger.

"And I lost my game while I was playing it!" He threw up his hands in despair after placing the PS2 on a chair. "I had a high score, too!" Noticing the smoking microwave, he added sarcastically, "Clap clap for the handicap. Nick can't even work a _microwave_."

Catherine broke into giggles, turning away so Nick wouldn't see her laughing at him.

Meanwhile, Grissom had made his way back to the main page of fanfiction. "Hey, guys." He called. The readers gathered around the computer again as Greg exited, sulking.

"I could use something humorous." Sara said. "After those last two, I really don't care about quality."

"You're gonna take that back later on." Warrick said. "I don't think there's _anything_ good on this site."

Catherine stole the mouse from Grissom and clicked on the first fic she saw categorized as 'humor'. "Sorry, Gil," she said, noticing his shocked expression upon her taking the mouse, "But you did pick the last two."

"She has a point." Nick added. "Go ahead, Cath."

_How bad can humor be? How will the lab react? To be continued . . ._


	3. Insane Sugar Fueled Humor

**A/N: **Wow! Thanks to everyone for reviewing, you guys are amazing. Hope you enjoy this chapter as much I enjoyed attempting to write it. ^^ The bolded parts took forever to write and undo all of the auto-corrects.

For the best _Taken_ fanfiction on the web, visit www .angel-allison. com. For the boards that go with it, visit http:// beyondthesky.proboards27 .com.

The page was still loading when Sara got up from her chair to pour herself some coffee, returning a minute later to her original spot in the chair by the computer. Grissom was staring thoughtfully off into the distance.

"What's up, Griss?" Sara asked as casually as she could, trying to keep the rest of the team from suspecting their relationship between them. She was still confused and angry after reading those last two stories, wondering how some insignificant geek with too much free time on their hands had discovered their special thing.

He paused for a moment, then began. "After those last two stories, I'm even more fascinated by human beings. How they spend their free time writing things like this. Look at how literature has changed since the invention of the computer. You'd never find prose like this back when Shakespeare was writing his works - "

"Spare us the speech, Socrates." Catherine interrupted wearily, noticing the page had finished loading. "This should be good."

Grissom frowned before turning his attention to the screen in front of him.

**csi playz spin da bottel~!!w92**

**yb melanie!218~**

"Haven't these people ever heard of spellcheck?" Warrick asked incredulously.

Sara shook her head. "No, I think they just . . . miss the keys when they type and don't have enough coordination to attempt using the mouse."

Nick frowned, noticing the next few lines of text. "I'm getting some bad vibes about this, guys."

Catherine smirked. "Vibes, Nicky? You clairvoyant now?" She teased playfully.

**okk so i just aet 692 packtes of sugaaaaa!11`! and im reallu really HYPA11!1 AND I LIEK TEH SHIFY KEY hehehehehehehhahe ok tihs is wut u get wehn u eat suga adn then wsah ti down wit SUGRE WATERRR11!**

The seconds hand on the clock had gone around the clock a full two times before the CSI's gathered around the computer were able to lean back, satisfied that they were able to decrypt the almost unreadable sentence.

"Two minutes to read one sentence?" Warrick whistled through his teeth.

Catherine furrowed her brow. "I see what you meant about bad vibes, Nick."

"Miss the keyboard?" Nick asked, leaning forward to address Sara. "I think these people are missing certain letters of their keyboard."

Grissom shook his head, puzzled. "Six hundred and ninety-two packets of sugar. That would mean she probably has more sugar running through her veins than blood." He grimaced. "Of course, how she could stand to eat sugar raw for that long is incomprehensible to me."

**so nick nad warrikc r in the lab whun grg cums in 9i looooooove grge!1) w/ sum bottels of brr!1 thy drikn ti ber and cath & girss + sars cum ni!q**

Catherine shook her head in frustration. "I have this feeling that they're trying to tell us something, but I just can't understand anything they're saying!"

All eyes turned to her. "You _were_ the one who picked this story." Grissom said simply.

"Yeah." She sputtered. "But I didn't know it was going to be this impossible to read!"

Warrick was still laughing after reading the last line. "Cath, Griss, and Sars." He turned to face Sara. "We've got SARS in the lab now?"

Upon overhearing that last statement, several employees walking past the breakroom stopped dead in their tracks and stared at Warrick, their faces pale with fear.

"Uh, just . . . kidding." Warrick added, giving a small, tentative wave to the terrified Crime Lab employees.

**'lets play spin teh bottles! Nk daid adn spnu teh botel it landtdd on cath seh said trtuh**

"I thought we were playing spin the bottle, not truth or dare." Sara said, confused.

Warrick sighed. "Hey, at least you can read it."

Nick leaned back in his chair and smirked, feeling superior. "That's the last time anyone ignores me when I have a vibe, right?"

"If that's what you want to think, yes, Nick." Grissom replied in a patronizing tone. Nick's grin quickly disappeared, only to be replaced by a pout. The team turned their attention back to the screen as Greg came in, glancing at Nick angrily before grabbing a granola bar from the pantry.

"Look, I'm sorry about the Playstation." Nick said, hopelessly spreading out his hands in front of him. "I didn't blow up the microwave on purpose, you know. Just be thankful it wasn't the lab or anything, like Ca - " He stopped mid-sentence upon receiving a glare from Catherine.

"I was so close to the end, man!" The lab rat responded.

"Greg, shouldn't you be doing work instead of playing Playstation?" Asked Grissom, arching one of his eyebrows.

For a moment Greg was at a loss for words, then he pointed at Gil himself. "Shouldn't _you_ be doing work instead of reading slash fics?"

The group groaned at the mention of the word 'slash', and Sara quickly responded, "We're not reading any more slash for the time being, Greg."

Greg shrugged. "Hey, I've read worse than Grissom and Brass. You know, there was that one fic with Warrick, Eckley and the can opener - " His sentence was abruptly interrupted by the various groans and protests emitted from the group. Satisfied upon getting his revenge, he calmly strolled his way out of the breakroom, munching on his snack.

**grssi said ko srar has 2 kisss warriks seh slcoed ehr eyes & kised ihm adn it waz teh most beatufl kissa evea!!23qadf**

"Whoo!" Nick pulled at his shirt collar loosely. "Is it just me, or is it getting hot in here?"

"It's just you." Sara answered sharply. Warrick looked like he was in a great deal of pain, but Sara wasn't sure if that was from trying as hard as he could to actually read the fic or if it was from his reaction upon deciphering the story.

**tehy ketp kissign aen ffinale griss hed 2 pll hem aparty!1! but thehhy keyp kissign!s thean teh btootle spnu adnt they hadd to ikss OK SRY I GTTA GO ETA MUR SUAGAAAA!121rqws**

"No!" Catherine exclaimed. "You don't need more sugar, you psychopathic lunatic! You need to be institutionalized!"

The rest of the group stared at her in surprise after her sudden outburst.

Archie waved hello as he walked in, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "Hey, guys." He said, taking a sip and grimacing. "This stuff's awful. Do we have any sugar?"

"No!" Sara and Nick replied simultaneously as Archie nodded slowly and shuffled out of the room.

**gt mur suga nd i m on suhc a suage hiiigh@1 itssoo mucjj fnu!**

Suddenly Grissom stood up, breathing heavily and pacing around the unoccupied section of the breakroom.

"What is it, Griss?" Asked Catherine, confused. The fic hadn't been _that_ bad - besides, he had sat through the slash fic without the slightest hint of discomfort, but when he read a humor story with nothing offensive at all he became distressed. He certainly was an enigma, that Gil Grissom.

"Ninety-five." He was muttering, glancing at his watch.

"I beg your pardon?" Catherine asked uncertainly.

Sara sighed, recalling a case they had worked a few years ago. "When his pulse gets up from seventy to ninety-five he realizes how mad he really is . . . "

Their supervisor had calmed down a bit but was still pacing. "It's like a bad crossword puzzle." He said angrily. "It makes no sense, it's impossible to read, and it's not even funny." Sighing, he finally sat back down.

"I think you should take it easy." Nick said concernedly. "You sure you want to keep reading this?"

The glance Grissom shot Nick was enough to make Nick raise his hands in protest. "All right, all right, but don't say I didn't warn you. I told you I was getting bad - "

"Yeah, yeah, we know. Bad vibes." Warrick interrupted. "Can we get on with reading, Mr. Vibe?"

**osthne warrkci and sara ketp kssign n eh gme wnt on! thne griss trow thme aprt nad ksdd sara hmisfle!1 thyw ketp nissk nutl he gme waz oer btu ohte ppl ketp plyign2**

"Breathe much, Sara?" Catherine kidded her coworker, whose face was beet-red.

Warrick grinned. "Actually, when you get used to it, this story's kind of amusing. I mean, the author's making up her own language. Grissom and Sara, you guys are 'nissking', and we keep 'plyign'."

"Thanks for the attempt at optimism." Nick said, patting his friend on the shoulder. "But, uh, there's no good to try and bring out here."

Refusing to admit defeat, Warrick shook his head. "There has to be _one_ good thing about this story, and I'm determined to find it."

"Too late." Said Sara, pointing to the next line.

**teh ebnds**

The group surrounding the glowing screen breathed a collective sigh of relief. "Well, at least we didn't have any pesky pairings." Warrick said, again trying to look on the bright side.

"No," Grissom said, "but we did have a plotless, pointless story that looked as though the author wrote it blindfolded."

"Hey, there's more." Catherine said, pointing to a row of text beneath the closing line.

**pllz r7r!21 i meeed revuws tehy mke mee hppy adn fi u liekd tis i culd rite moer!1**

"Please don't!" Nick exclaimed. "There's enough garbage on the Internet as it is."

"And you said it was free of torture, Cath." Sara muttered.

Warrick shrugged. "Once you got past the bad spelling - OK, the _godawful_ spelling" he quickly revised his sentence upon noticing the looks his coworkers gave him, "it actually wasn't _that_ bad."

"Give it up, Warrick." Nick said, shaking his head. "You can try all you want, but there's nothing you can say to save this story."

Slowly, Warrick nodded his head. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

Catherine clicked on the back button, browsing through the page of stories and scrolling a little faster whenever she saw the word 'slash'. Suddenly she felt someone wrench the mouse out of her hand and turned to find Sara grasping it, shrugging. "What can I say, Cath? You picked that last fic."

"Like you're going to pick anything better." Nick said sarcastically.

Offended, Sara exclaimed, "I am a woman and I have a _mouse_. You piss me off and I'll find a story that'll give you nightmares for the next few weeks."

Startled but amused by Sara's outburst, Grissom smiled to himself as he watched Sara highlight a story title and wait for the reactions of the rest of the team. It looked like a decent fic, categorized as 'drama', and everything was spelled correctly in the summary: "After the loss of one of their own, how can the CSI's cope?"

"Let's go for it!" Nick called out, leaning forward anxiously.

"Hold on." Grissom said, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes. "That last story hurt my eyes from straining so hard in order to read it."

"Yeah." Said Catherine. "Can we take a break for a couple of minutes? I'm starved." Getting up, she reached into the pantry and pulled out a jar of peanut butter as well as some bread. "Gil, you want some?" She asked, noticing how stressed her boss looked.

"Sure." He nodded, placing his glasses back on his face.

"Hey!" Nick called. "One for me too."

"And me." Added Warrick, reaching into the fridge and grabbing a can of soda.

Catherine threw up in her hands in exasperation. "What am I, your servant?" She asked, spreading the peanut butter on bread and practically slamming the two pieces together, tossing it onto a plate before beginning on the next sandwich.

"Hey, Cath?" Asked Sara. "Can you make me one, too?"

Noticing the steam that was beginning to pour out from Catherine's ears, Nick called over to Catherine, "Careful, you don't wanna turn into the Lab Nazi again."

Warrick laughed. Grissom sat quietly, munching on the sandwich Catherine had quite literally tossed him thoughtfully and scooping up the peanut butter that had fallen out from in between the slices of bread, licking it off of his finger.

When the team had finished eating their lunch, they turned their attention back to the computer's glowing screen.

"All right." Said Nick. "Here we go."

"Getting any vibes we should know about, Nicky?" Catherine asked sarcastically.

He nodded. "I'm actually picking up some good vibes. My senses are telling me this is going to be good." He said in complete seriousness, as Warrick, Catherine and Sara erupted into laughter. "What?" He added, confusedly, noticing that even Grissom was grinning.

"Nothing." Warrick managed to get out when the laughter died down. "Let's get going."

_They've survived Mary-Sues, bad slash, and poorly written humor. But will they be able to stand the angst of a character death fic? Wait for the next chapter, dear reader, for the answers lie within Chapter Four . . .****_


	4. Angst

**Disclaimer: **I still don't own _CSI_, and that goes for all of the rest of the chapters.

**Author's Notes: **Yes, I'm alive and _finally _updating! Thanks a ton for your encouragement and feedback! For those of you who asked - the actual humor story took maybe a minute to randomly hit the keyboard, a couple more to undo the auto-corrects, and about twelve gazillion hours to run it through spellcheck. This chapter was (obviously) a whole lot easier to do - enjoy!

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"So?" Catherine began, gazing at the bored-looking group gathered around the computer. "You wanna place bets as to who's going to die?"

Warrick quickly snapped back, "No."

"Come on, guys!" Catherine tried to be cheerful. "What's the matter? The page is loaded, we have a story to get through! And how bad can it be? After all those other stories, I'm up for a mockingly bad fic."

Resentful to be subjected yet again to more torture - but still curious to see the page's contents - the CSI's leaned forward and began to read. "Fine, ignore me." Catherine muttered under her breath.

**Sunshine**

**By Caitlin**

**A/N: After "Butterflied" I decided to have a little fun! Tee hee! And, like, don't be mad at me, but I think I could send this to whoever does the show and stuff and maybe they'll turn it into an episode cuz that would be really cool, and then I could meet dat sexy Warrick and we could hang out at a hotel and order room service and **

Blushing, Warrick asked, "How long does this go on for?"

"A while," replied Sara, now controlling the mouse and scrolling down past the endless Author's Note. "Is there even a story in here?"

"Keep scrolling." Was all Warrick said, catching sight of the words "Warrick", "chocolate syrup" and "handcuffs" in the same sentence and grimacing. He wished he had called in sick that day, or that the computer would suddenly simultaneously combust. But since he _had_ come into work that day and the computer appeared to be in perfect working order, he had to resort to simply praying that the mortifyingly explicit Author's Note would end soon.

"Here we go!" Nick said as they finally reached the beginning of the story.

"No vibes this time, Nick?" Grissom asked, smiling. Nick muttered something darkly and cursed the day(s) he ever dated that psychic hotline receptionist.

**"Sara," Grissom said as he looked down at his co-worker. She was surrounded by a pool of blood on the ground, and as she weakly coughed blood sputtered up. "I'm so sorry."**

**"It's not your fault." She managed to choke out. "Just . . . hold me, Griss."**

**"Of course." He said, dragging her into his lap while giving her a long, passionate kiss on the lips.**

". . . Further depleting her oxygen supply while staining his pants with her blood . . . " Warrick added sarcastically. Catherine smacked him in the back of the head with an old magazine that was lying around the breakroom. "Hey!" Warrick exclaimed. "You're the one that said 'mockingly bad'! I'm just mocking it!"

**"There's something you should know, Griss," She let out a long breath after their kiss. "I've always loved Catherine." Gulping, she gazed up at her boss. "Can you tell her that, Griss?"**

**"Yes." He whispered, heartbroken, and then she died.**

"Well," Nick said, oblivious to Catherine and Warrick's slight sniffling, "That was kind of abrupt, don't you think?"

Sara frowned. "If they're going to kill me, can't they at least tell me why I'm dying? And how I'm dying? And why I'm asking Grissom to hold me and kiss me before confessing my love for Catherine?"

Hodges quickly retreated out of the breakroom - after entering it only a few seconds ago - upon hearing Sara's comment. "I'm not even going to _ask_." He muttered, deciding he would come back later for his coffee.

"I just think it's better for us not to question these people's logic right now." Grissom said, shaking his head. He was simply trying to keep his anger under control for now. "Do you two need a tissue?" He asked, offering the box to Catherine and Warrick, who declined, facing the screen again with only the occasional sniffle.

**He went home that night depressed. He hadn't been able to save her - what was wrong with him?**

"Could it be the fact that I had no medical tools to aid me in performing a split-second life-saving operation?" Gil asked the computer. Neither the machine nor his co-workers responded.

**He picked up the phone and called Catherine. She was probably out with her husband, Hank. After Sara dumped him, he had seduced Catherine and impregnated her with his child. Now at least Lindsey had a friend her age to play with! But anyway, the answering machine came on.**

"So, uh, let me try to get this straight." Catherine had recovered and was back to her plot-picking ways. "Sara dumped Hank - the EMT - who, in the time span of one year, got me pregnant and made me give birth to an eight-year-old kid?"

"The only thing he would have impregnated you - or anyone - with would be the Demon Seed." Sara glared at the screen, her eyes giving the impression that if Hank was actually somewhere in that box, she would smash it to pieces with a sledgehammer in a nanosecond. "Your child would be the spawn of Satan."

"Whoa there." Nick said, raising his eyebrows.

**"Hi, it's Gil." He took a deep breath. "Sara wanted me to tell you, before she died, that she loved you. It's all my fault. I loved her too, but I couldn't be with her. I deserve to die, too."**

**And with that he slammed down the phone and walked to the window. He opened it and jumped out.**

"I, uh," Warrick began, tears welling up in his eyes, "I thought only one person was going to die in this story."

Nick helped himself to a tissue, blowing his nose loudly. "So did I. Grissom _and_ Sara both?"

Sara shrugged. "It's not _that_ sad, guys." She said, her voice slightly cracking.

**Catherine got the message when she came home from work. Grissom had died, and it was tough on the team trying to figure out who did it. Then they realized it was suicide. First her true love, Sara, and now Grissom? Quickly she grabbed a butcher knife and stabbed Hank, who was sleeping happily. It was his fault for stealing her away from Sara!**

**Then she entered the bathroom and swallowed the two full bottles of sleeping pills that had been sitting on the counter.**

A tear slid down Sara's cheek. "You killed yourself for me, Cath?"

Her co-worker smiled wanly, fighting back tears herself. "Hey, you're one of my best friends. Without you and Griss I don't know what I'd do." The two women hugged each other briefly, much to the amusement of a handful of employees in the hall.

**Warrick and Nick were assigned to Catherine's case. "It was suicide." Nick said. "And we didn't realize she was so sad all along - it's our fault, man." Warrick added. Quickly Nick grabbed the butcher knife**

"Hey! I wouldn't do that! It's evidence!" Protested Nick.

**And stabbed himself. Warrick then did the same.**

"Aww, damn." Warrick said, tears streaming down his face. "I love you, man!" He and Nick hugged each other before each grabbing a few handfuls of tissues. "Platonic love, of - _gasp_ - course." He added, remembering their slash-fanfiction experience.

"Yeah, me - _hic_ - too." Nick said in between Kleenexes.

Catherine snatched the box away from them and used it to dab away the tears on her face. "You OK, Gil?" She asked, noting the pained expression on the supervisor's face.

"I'm going to go check on my bugs." Grissom quickly said, his voice beginning to crack. Sara watched him leave as she wiped the tears off her cheek with the back of her hand. No one noticed the small crowd of lab technicians and crime scene investigators that had gathered outside the breakroom and were watching the CSI's at the computer blow their noses and hug each other.

Greg slid into the room, looking first at the empty box of tissues on the floor, then at the group of sobbing, hugging CSI's. "Angst?" He ventured a guess.

Sara nodded. "Hey," she pointed at the screen. "Greg's - _sniffle_ - in this too."

**Everyone else he had ever known and loved was dead. Greg, sitting in the lab, quickly finished stirring the mixture of hydrogen sulfate and Drano before drinking it.**

"Not you too, Greg!" Catherine said, hugging the lab rat and wiping her nose on his shirt. Even Greg's eyes were beginning to tear, and he finally let one tear slide down his face after Nick abruptly hugged him.

"I've, uh, - _hic_ - gotta go." Greg said, rushing out of the breakroom before he could let his tears flow even more freely.

"Don't commit suicide in the lab, Greggo!" Warrick called after him as Greg left. "I'm sorry I pushed you around at the crime scene the other day! You can wear whatever you want next time, as long as you're alive!"

Several passing employees stopped in their tracks and exchanged confused glances with each other, joining the already-large crowd gathered there. Something strange was going on in the breakroom today - it was probably that new coffee blend Hodges had insisted they start brewing in there. That lab rat was nothing but trouble, anyway.

**The CSI's were all buried next to each other. Their service was short but beautiful, and their souls were now free together in heaven.**

The group around the computer broke into full-blown sobs.

"Don't ever kill yourself, OK?" Sara said after breaking away from a hug with Nick.

Nick sniffled and hiccupped in reply. "You too, you hear? Don't just randomly die on us and drive us all insane and make us suicidal."

"Can I ask what exactly is going on in here?" Hodges cautiously asked, entering the breakroom for the second time that afternoon. All he wanted was his coffee, and in order to get it he had to walk within a ten-foot radius of the sobbing CSI's at the computer. But for some reason he couldn't quite put his finger on, he really didn't want to do that.

Sara got up and Hodge's life flashed before his eyes. _That's it_, he thought. _She's finally going to get me back for all the times I was rude to her in the lab_ -

Instead, Sara enveloped him in a hug. "Don't die, Hodges!" She choked out.

He was wondering why he hadn't joined in earlier when he asked, "So, uh . . . do you want to celebrate my alive-ness with me? Maybe go out to dinner with me tomorrow night? We could, uh, go to the movies or something."

"Not a - _hic _- chance." Sara said as she wiped her nose on her sleeve and headed back to her seat.

Humiliated at being rejected by Sara in front of half the Crime Lab's current occupants (including several criminal suspects and their lawyers who had stopped on their way out of the building in order to see what was going on), he sputtered, "Yeah? Well - well - I don't like your stupid straight hair anyway!"

Hoping to make it through the rest of the day with at least a tiny shred of dignity, he turned on his heel and angrily walked back to the lab.

Grissom entered just as Hodges was leaving, wiping his nose on a Kleenex. Sara could see he had been crying but had tried to cover it up, and she smiled at him as he sat down.

"Well?" He asked, pointing towards the screen. "Is that the end of it?"

"I think so." Nick said, regaining his composure and glancing at Warrick and Catherine, who were slowly doing the same. "I'm still confused as to why it's called 'Sunshine', though."

Warrick straightened up and shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe the Author's Note was the actual story, and the story was the Author's Note - the note was way longer than the story, anyway."

"Um, guys?" Sara said, drying off the last of her tears. "There's a really big group of people outside pointing at us."

Upon noticing the crowd of scientists staring at them, the group clustered around the computer smiled wanly and waved slightly back. Disappointed that there was to be no more soap-opera-esque sobbing for the time being, the crowd dispersed, returning to their work.

Catherine brushed a strand of hair out of her face and struggled to recollect what had just happened. "Well, that was a good twenty minutes we just wasted hugging each other." She said cynically.

"No more angst, please." Warrick said, and Nick nodded in agreement. "I would ask for something funny, but - "

"No." Grissom interrupted. "I think that humor story we read was probably one of the higher-quality stories on the site, which is why we're going to stay very far away from that genre for the time being."

Relieved, Sara clicked on the 'back' button. "Hey," she said, "this looks promising."

"That's what's been said about everything we've picked so far." Catherine pointed out. "Well, what is it?" She added after receiving a glare from Sara rather than a reply.

"A 'crossover'. It says 'The CSI team gets paid a visit by the team in Miami, as well as a few other friends'. It can't be _that_ bad - well, actually, I guess it can." Blushing slightly, she quickly continued with, "Well, we won't know how it is until we read it, right?"

Nick shrugged. "Sure, why not? It's not slash, is it?" Sara shook her head, and he clicked on the link. "Hey, anything that's not slash can't be too bad."

"Or humor." Warrick reminded him.

"Or romance." Grissom added.

"Or angst!" Catherine exclaimed.

"So, the real question is . . . " Grissom furrowed his brow. "Is there anything good at all on this site?"

_Will they be able to survive the horror of a fictional - or possibly even real-life - encounter with Miami's very own crime scene team? Who else might pop in for a surprise visit? All that and much more in Chapter 5 . . ._


	5. Crossover

While I should have been updating this, I thought it would be more fun to procrastinate and write a million one-shots as well as start another WiP (and it _was_! Ha!). So I'm sorry for the delay. However, thank you for all of your wonderful reviews and words of encouragement! You guys rock; I love this fandom.

A warning before you read this chapter -- I loathe _CSI: Miami_ to a degree so extreme it is impossible to put into words. Therefore, much Miami bashing here. But, as Voltaire said: "Does a book displease you? Refuse it. Does it tire you? Read it not."

(PS -- when you write the title of the story like _Fanfiction!_ Doesn't it sound like a musical? [/geek])

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"I remember these guys." Warrick mused as he leaned back in his chair. "They were kind of . . ."

"Flirty?" Catherine offered, remembering all the winks and sly remarks Horatio kept aiming towards her. God, he was irritating.

"Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of . . . snobby. They didn't really pay any attention to me at all." A hurt Warrick finished.

"Cheer up, buddy." Nick said as he tried to comfort his friend. "After all, we are pretty far away from them. Chances are you'll never see them again."

Warrick nodded, relieved. "Good."

**It was a sunny day, but it seemed less sunny to Horatio, because someone had died, and they had to go to Las Vegas now, and he hated when he had to leave because his whole life was here, and his job, and his friends and his co-workers (but luckily they were coming with him to Las Vegas so he wouldn't be alone!), and he was looking forward to spending more time with the blond person**

"This is even more degrading than being a Lab Nazi." Catherine groaned.

Frowning, Sara asked, "Why are they even coming here at all? Just because a person dies they have to come to Vegas?"

**and talking with her about the case, because what happened was this person died and their remains ended up in Las Vegas and his brother's wife's cousin's neighbor's parakeet's doctor was friends with this guy who knew this girl who had lived in Miami for a week and that was a really really big piece of evidence for the team and they decided to go to Las Vegas yay!**

"I guess that answers your question, Sara." Grissom said. "Sort of."

"Was that entire thing one sentence?" Nick asked incredulously. "Um . . . wow."

Catherine stretched her arms in the air as she stood. "Well, that's the kind of logic those CSI's used. They really were morons." She chuckled to herself as she poured herself a mug of coffee. Sara wondered for a moment if the coffeepot was magically refilling itself, because they had consumed what seemed to her to be nearly six pounds of it during their fic-reading excursion without once adding more beans.

"Yup, they certainly were - "

"Dashing?" A mysterious voice from the doorway interrupted Warrick mid-sentence, and a loud crash was heard as Catherine's coffee mug shattered into many tiny pieces upon impacting the floor. "Quietly powerful? Sublime? Dare I say . . . sexy?"

_[We apologize for the interruption. We would like to reassure you that the writer of that last sentence has been sacked for describing Horatio Caine as 'sexy'. You may continue reading the fic.]_

All Catherine could do upon seeing the team of Miami CSI's was gape. Muttering cynically under his breath, the janitor skulked his way into the breakroom. Those damn CSI's! Did they have to drop so much coffee when they were surprised by stupid little things like randomly appearing people from Miami and strange slash pairings?

"No, that's not where I was heading at _all_." Warrick muttered to himself.

Greg skidded by the breakroom upon catching sight of the strangers. "Hey, guys! I'm Greg. Nice to meet you."

One of the men in the group looked confused. "I thought I was the obligatory wacky lab rat with a great sense of humor and funky hair."

"No, Delko," replied his fellow CSI, "You're the obligatory hunky-yet-mysterious Horatio wannabe who barely knows how to use a microscope." He paused to think for a moment. "Plus, you hardly _have_ any hair."

"Right." Said the first man. "I'm Delko, dude." All Greg could do when he was offered Delko's hand to shake was raise his eyebrows and cautiously take the hand.

Also offering his hand, the second man said, "I'm Speedle, the team diver. Who's your diver here?"

Piping up from the far corner, Nick called, "We live in the desert."

Speedle blinked as he processed the comment. "Oh. Right."

"Come on." Greg said as he grabbed the two men by the arms. "I'm going to teach you some things about actually working." All Delko and Speed could do as they were dragged off to the lab was look at each other hopelessly.

"What is _this_?" Horatio pondered as he cautiously approached the computer. "Fan . . . fiction?"

"Yes, we're in the middle of reading it." Sara snapped impatiently.

"Ya'll mahnd if we saht in with ya'll?" Calleigh asked, her voice annoyingly perky and overly sugary-sweet.

**So Horatio saw Catherine and went weak at the knees but then Grissom was there kissing her and they had a lot of little children so he went to the lab and asked where the evidence was being processed and Cath said she would have it soon and the blood matched the victim but he was too happy too care she was talking to him "would you like to go to dinner with me" he asked and she said "no I'm married" and he sighed, would he ever get her?**

"That sentence made no sense whatsoever." Warrick pointed out. "There are multiple Catherine's now? And she's telling him she'll have the evidence processed soon while it's already been processed?"

"Give up already. There's no point in trying to get it to make sense." Sara sighed, wondering why it was always Catherine who got to have 20,000+ toddlers a year with Grissom while she always ended up getting shot at crime scenes.

"Ah thank that Cah-therine and Haw-ratio are sawch a cute cawple." Calleigh interjected as Catherine grimaced. The fact that Horatio was batting his eyes at her didn't help, either.

**Then at the crime scene he said "she was shot with a nine millimeter from seven feet away with a bullet in a homemade gun made of a shoe" and saw Catherine and said "I'm sorry about your friend" they looked at Sara's corpse on the ground and Catherine said "It's OK" and they kissed.**

_Well, _thought Sara, _it's better being dead than making out with Horatio, right?_

"Horatio," Grissom began, "how exactly did you arrive at that conclusion so quickly?"

Horatio stared at Grissom for a minute. "I like to make sure my victims get the justice they deserve. I've promised to never let another murderer spend a night roaming the free world, preying on innocent children and old ladies, shamelessly killing others for their enjoyment." Having concluded his speech, he raised his eyebrows suggestively at Catherine.

Without bothering to tell Horatio that that didn't answer his question in the least, Grissom tried again with "Why are you working this case when it's nowhere near your jurisdiction and has nothing to do with the reason you came in the first place?"

"I think it's very noble of Horatio, Mr. Grissom!" Calleigh exclaimed.

"Didn't you use to have an accent?" Nick inquired.

"Oh yeah! Ah mayn, ah thank it's vahry nohble of hahm." She corrected herself.

Grissom sighed.

**They kept kissing and kissing and then Grissom came and said "but Catherine I love you you're married to me!" and Catherine threw him out of the window and kept on kissing!yayyayyay!**

All Grissom could do upon reading that was raise his eyebrows slightly. What else could you do when you were just thrown out of a window, after all? There wasn't really much you could say at that.

"Ever notice how we're never in fics except when we're randomly processing evidence for other people?" Warrick asked Nick.

The Texan nodded. "It kind of sucks."

**The end pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease review because I really like them and if you review I'll continue and it'll be great so if you review me I'll review you so please please review with a cherry on top and sprinkles and chocolate syrup and ice cream and Icees and Arnold Schwarzenegger and tennis balls and computers and frosting and icing and J. Lo and Viggo Mortensen and cannibalistic mountain men and bow ties and chicken wings and shards of glass and dead mice and roadkill and boxing gloves and Lysol and xylophones and Michael Welch and Michael Imperioli's Unibrow on top too please please please!!**

"Well," Calleigh began, "I really enjoyed that! It was a -- "

"Accent?"

" -- delaht-ful portrah-yal of awr hard-working lahves!"

Greg appeared at the door, dragging behind him two awe-struck men. "We never knew . . . " Delko said in a hushed, wondrous tone.

"People do _work_." Speedle continued Delko's sentence. "And it's science that requires a degree and takes time to do and can actually be interesting." He paused to let it all sink in. "They don't just make stuff up, H!"

Furrowing his brow, Horatio racked his brain for a plausible explanation for this madness. "It doesn't make any sense." He drawled monotonously. "Who actually does _work_?"

"_We_ do." Catherine said sharply.

"Us, too." Came a gruff voice from the doorway.

Expecting to see Greg, Sara nearly fell out of her chair when she saw who was talking. He was tall, handsome, and had hair that looked like the pelt of a small mammal. But other than that . . . damn.

"Hawh are yaw?" Calleigh asked, her accent reaching new highs in improbability.

"Jack Malone, FBI." Casually he flashed his badge. "This is my team. Vivian, Danny, Martin, Sam."

The one he had introduced as Vivian stepped forward. "Mr. Gil Grissom?" Upon receiving confirmation that the bearded man in the chair was indeed Gil Grissom, she continued. "We've received reports of you having been missing for about three hours now."

"I'm not missing." Grissom said, before realizing just how lame it sounded out loud.

"We can see that, sir." Said Danny. "Hey, look!" He added to Martin. "It's our forensic-scientist-equivalents on this show! The obligatory smart-yet-witty-and-occasionally-angsty team members!"

Nick and Warrick introduced themselves as Sam approached Sara. "I guess you're my equivalent -- strained relationship with the boss? Intelligence with great hair?"

Having found her soulmate, Sara hastily introduced herself. Vivian immediately found herself face-to-face with Catherine. "So you're my equivalent, right? Single mom?"

"Sort of, yeah." Viv admitted.

"Angsty past?"

"Um . . . Hank?" Raising her eyes upward to the sky where the mysterious Hank apparently resided, she shrugged and continued. "Sure, why not?"

"Used to be a stripper?"

Taken aback by this sudden question, Viv hesitated. "Uh . . . you may want to talk to Farrell about that. He's the only guy who used to be into that stuff, but, uh -- "

"Hey, gahs!" Calleigh called from the computer. "Ya'll wanna read a fac? This one's anawther crawssover with people from lawts of Tay-Vay shaws!"

Still chatting, the fourteen people began to gather around the tiny screen.

_How will they cope with the added company -- and the quality of the fic? How many people can actually fit into the breakroom at one time? To be continued (eventually) . . ._


	6. A Very Special Supersized Crossover

I'm really sorry for the three-month delay in between chapters, I am. It just seems that recently I've been happier writing drama and angst (for the _Without a Trace_ fandom, mostly). I was, up until now, planning on continuing this, but after writing this chapter I realized that a) I don't find myself terribly hilarious, b) I can't continue to churn out quality humor without updating whenever I feel like it (which could be months apart) and c) it would be so much easier if someone else took this over. So if no one wants to tackle it themselves I'll just fix up an ending and call it a day -- but you guys have been way too nice, sticking with this little story even when I didn't update for eons. I just wanted you to know that if I don't continue writing this fic, it doesn't mean I don't appreciate all your reviews and feedback -- it's incredibly kind of you. : )

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"Well," Horatio began. Thirty seconds later, he continued: "This . . . 'fic' . . . involves characters from multiple television programs." With a dramatic swipe of his hand, he removed his sunglasses and placed them securely on his belt before hunching over the computer and obscuring everyone else's view.

Jack shoved Horatio out of the way.

o**mgomgomgmgomg!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! this is my first fic and I wanted everysinglecharacterinthehistoryoftelevision to come!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Enjoy and review plzplzplzplzplzplz!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**

Suddenly, Sara and Nick found themselves vanishing -- literally -- into thin air.

"People don't vanish! It's a molecular impossibility!" Grissom exclaimed before the author mentally slapped herself for just _having_ to use that line.

But molecular impossibility or not, Sara and Nick were slowly fading away.

"I know what this is!" Sara cried. "We're getting fired! This happened to me on _The West Wing_ and _ER_. And the important thing is to remain calm."

Nick couldn't hear her over his shrieks about, among other things, Evel Knievel and his everlasting love for Greg Sanders.

Completely oblivious to this, Martin sat in the corner and silently munched on a taco.

And then, suddenly -- they were gone.

"Dawn't warr-ay." Calleigh drawled. "Thay'll replace thaym waith some sayx-ier characters waith better hayir. It awlraydy happened on awr show!"

**Lilly Rush was sad, because she had just solved thirty-three previously unsolved cases in the last hour and now all the dead people were waving at her and she still had hair like a bird's nest in a hurricane!**

"Come again?" Vivian asked.

Danny laughed. "'Hair like a bird's nest in a hurricane'. Now _that_ I'd love to see."

Seconds later, a group of five people materialized next to the computer. This time no one marveled or gasped; people randomly appearing and disappearing had become old news to the folks in the breakroom.

"You must be Lilly Rush." Grissom offered his hand. "I'm Gil Grissom."  
"How'd you know it was me?" Lilly asked, shaking the other man's hand.

Having come up with a great many answers to this question, none of which could be considered socially acceptable, Gil stuttered: "Your . . . hair. It's quite -- "

"Lovely!" Catherine chirped. "Very lovely."

"Yeah, sure." In the back of the crowd were three large men, one of which had spoken. "We're always standing in the shadow of Lilly's hair . It's not fair. No one even knows our names!"

"_We _can't even tell ourselves apart." Griped another man.

"Well, have a seat. We're reading 'fanfiction'." Danny suggested.

The newcomers began to skim the beginning of the story as the others continued on.

**So she went to Las Vegas and met gil and**

"My hair does NOT look like that!"

**fell in love and then sara killed her.**

As if on cue, Sara and Nick reappeared out of nowhere.

"Ohmygoshohmygosh! I can't spend my career in Lifetime movies and -- oh. We're back." Nick abruptly stopped shouting and sat down next to Warrick. "What'd we miss?"

"Sara! You're -- you're back?" Catherine asked incredulously.

"Re-hired." She said nonchalantly. "Oh, I killed that wimpy detective with the bad hair? Score!"

Lilly stood up to introduce herself as the grin slid off Sara's face faster than you could say "Geeklove is back!"

Meanwhile, Danny and his _Cold Case_ clone were running DNA tests to make sure they weren't identical twins, or clones.

**And then Grissom got transferred to the Enterprise because he got in trouble for Sara's killing and Sara made out with Stillman**

"Is that my name?" The oldest _Cold Case_ man pondered.

Sara shuddered.

Greg determined that Danny and his _Cold Case_ clone were, in fact, the same person, and told them that they might want to visit a psychologist together sometime.

**and delko and calleigh and jack and sam and speedle and danny and scotty and harm and mac and abby and gibbs and adam and joan and luke and paris and nicole showed up and then had a par-tay**

"Holy crap." Nick said, after reading the last paragraph.

Warrick nodded. "You're right -- wow."

"No!" Nick exclaimed. "I meant _holy crap_!" Again, he and Sara were beginning to disappear.

"We're going to negotiate with Les Moonves!" Sara managed to holler above Nick's screams before they faded again.

**the end**

"Can we have Grissom back, please?" Someone called.

With a poof and a sprinkling of glitter Grissom re-appeared, examining the packed office in confusion. "What is going on here? Get out!" With a wave of his hands, the characters began filing out of the office as they exchanged goodbyes.

"Yeah, yeah -- we'll be back." Jack muttered gruffly as he slipped his arm around Samantha's waist and led her out of the office."

Finally, the lab was empty -- save for the original _CSI_ cast members and a handful of bewildered extras. Sara and Nick faded back in, much to everyone's delight and utter confusion.

"So?" Sara began brightly. "What's next?"


End file.
